


Your Grace

by jennystodorova



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Post-Canon Fix-It, Robb II, Sansa Stark is Queen in the North, Twins, jon x sansa - Freeform, jonsa, sansa and jon snow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27699266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennystodorova/pseuds/jennystodorova
Summary: As the guards bring him in Wolken opens the letter. It’s all misshaped letters, wrongly written words and a few numbers, but the messege is clear.“Where’s the Queen, where is she?”.The once great city, the capital is reduced to this – a pile of dust and ash. There is no lion’s roar, there is no stag fury to be feared, not even a rose can be found growing strong, there is only this…ash and blood in the winter sun.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 16
Kudos: 33





	1. The letter

**Author's Note:**

> alright, please don't judge me too hard  
> i've been a reader for an year and i had this idea and decided to try it out  
> english is not my native language, so do excuse a few ( or more than that) mistakes there are here  
> i hope you like it  
> and if not, well c'est la vie and it probably won't be my thing to write  
> without further ado...

He was walking, and walking and walking, the words sounding in his ears. He repeated them again and again, and again too afraid he’d forget and then what. What was going to happen, could he just not do it… No, he had to do it, he had to make it, he was brave, he was brave, he was a man of the freefolk, he was a man of th- he was a boy, the only one that didn’t run fast enough that’s what he was. And now, now he was walking to a castle he has never been to, with a piece of paper covered with drying blood at the corner saying the same words over and over again so he can at least do some good, so he can be of some use. So he walks, and walks, and walks.

.

The yard is full of people moving straight and fast, there are people fighting in the corner, you can hear the steel ring and the grunts of the man. There are guards here and there, there are wagons full of furs, of food, of wood. A thin lear of fresh snow has covered the ground and you can see the frost starting to make it’s way up the metal door handle. Maester Wolken walks across the yard when he sees it. A boy, bearly ten and he’s shaking walking his way, eyes red, face white, mumbling something with his dry lips, holding something in his hands. He is headed directly for him, he’s so close now he can almost make out the boys words.  
“Winterfell, Queen, letter, gold, dead; Winterfell, Queen, letter, gold, dead; Winterfell, Queen, letter, gold, dead; Wint-“ and then the boy collapses in the maester’s arms and hands him a bloodies, crumbled thing.  
“Help! Help, help me get him inside.” As the guards bring him in Wolken opens the letter. It’s all misshaped letters, wrongly written words and a few numbers, but the messege is clear.  
“Where’s the Queen, where is she?”

.

Quin Sansa  
We av du bastard jon snou  
If ye want im bak ye av 2 pey us in gold and juls  
If ye don’t be wantin 2 pey 4 im will just slit is trot and b don wit it  
D boi will tel us were 2 mit

The letter lays there on the desk between them, the maester on one side and the Queen on the other.  
“Is this some sort of strange jest, because I do not care for it.” She was standing up now and as her words continued he voice got higher and higher. She rearly shouted and so when she did it was as if a storm had come and all knew to bow before it else it blow them away in it’s power.  
“Your Grace, I-um-I think not, we have talked with the boy and he has told us everything, quite a helpful lad. He told us where they want to meet, but also, here their camp is or at least in what area. He told us how many they are and how exactly they managed to capture His Gra- my lord.” She looked at him, one eyebrow raised and her upper lip wen up at the corner.  
“Told us? Who is us, Maester?” looking at his expression she sighed and moved to the door. “Where is he?”  
“Cortyard, Your Grace.” The master murmured as he too went through the door and followed his Queen down the halls of the castle.  
When he exited the doors he could see her already walking towards the young man saddling his stead, sward at his hip. His redish-brown curls moving slightly in the weak wind.  
“What do you think you’re doing? Where in all the God’s name do you think you’re going? And if you say to go save your f-go save Jon” she quickly scaned the people around them” Robb Stark I forbid it, you won’t go.”  
“So what then Mother, we let him die?! There aren’t so many of them. They only managed what they did by ambush in the middle of the night. How is that honerable, how else could they have bested The Greatest Swardsman in the North?! Please, Mother, let me do this, let me fight to bring him back to us?” his blue eyes were shining as he touched her elbows and slide his hands down to hols hers. “Or would you rather just pay and show the whole of the world how easily manipulated House Stark really is?!” he let go of her hands as if burned.  
“I will not pay , but you will not go-  
“So we’ll leave him to-  
“We will NOT leave him to anything Robb” she almost screamed “But you will promise me you will no go, you may come with me and help our man make a plan and we will send them for Jon tomorrow.” Her eyes, the same as his, shown in the daylight, she took his face in her hands “promise me that you won’t go, promise me Robb.”  
With a sigh he closed his eyes covered her hands with his whispered “Fine Mother, I Promise you I will not go.”  
“Fine then, if something goes wrong I cannot lose you both, now come let’s go gather the generals and make a plan.”  
“Yes, I’ll be with you shortly, I – uh- I just need to ge5t something.” As the Queen smiled weakly and went through the door she had just come out of, her son, the prince of the North went running in the other direction through another door as fast as he could.  
The maester’s last thought was that this thing might now go as smoothly as they all hoped it would. 

.

Three riders and a forth horse could be seen heading away from the castle not half an hour later. The maester was about to say something when the prince came in the chamber breathing heavily.  
“I’m here, we can begin.” He walked to the map table and looked around the room. When his eyes stopped at his mother, she narrowed hers, but he began explaning everything the boy had told them and making suggestions about what should be done. When the maester could once again look out the window it was as if the riders were never there.

.

Tied up like cattle next to the fire. That’s how Jon Snow found himself in the aftermath of the attack on the freefolk little camp this side of the wall. They then tied him up and dragged him halfway around the country, making sure to keep him as far away from any kind of weapon as well as being all five of them together when the ropes holding him needed to be loosened for him to make water. Apparently they had this planed for quite some time and had the specifics all mapped out. Two days, that’s how long they’ve kept him and from what he’s gathered tomorrow at sun down they expect to be very rich man. Who would pay for the bastard that betrayed the North, the King who gave his country up to a mass murderer and then he himself killed her after swearing aleagence to her. After swearing his love to her, after- after finding out he is her kin. He knew who. She would always be there to help him clean the messes he somehow got himself into after entering with only good intentions. She would do anything for them to be together, even if he still sees himself as unworthy of her as the day he put a knife through the heart of the queen her swore an oath to.  
Waiting that’s what he was doing, waiting for an opportunity, any opportunity.  
One of the man went to make water, but there were still four more and they kept all the weapons far from his very limited reach.  
And then a horse flu by from the direction of the man who had left moments ago, all four of them stood up, but before anyone could move further a sward came through one’s throat. Before the man hit the ground the girl who had done the deep jumped and started fighting the ugly man near Jon’s legs, why two men dressed as Stark soldiers fought and killed the other two.  
Apparently Ugly was quite the sward’s man for he disarmed her… or not, because with one kick he too now was left without a sward. He took one burning branch from the fire and started swinging it at her. One of the two Stark men – the younger one stepped forward, but was quickly stopped by the hand of the older one, so now they just stood there watching as if it were a spar at the training yard.  
Meanwhile the girl dogged the fire until Ugly did not take a swing but brought it down as if to cut her from up to down. The strangest thing happened, she smiled and even though she had enough time to jump away, she just caught the burning wood with her left hand while kicking Ugly in the stomach. While he fell back, she throw the branch away took a sward, took Longclaw, that was on the ground next to her and ran Ugly straight through.  
She tuned toward him and he could see her better as she tucked a few loose strains of hair, that had escaped her braid, behind her ear. Her eyes were blue, her skin white and her hair dark brown.  
She crouched next to him and cut the ties at his feet.  
“We’re here to save you, we’re here to escort you safely back home.” and then she cut the once holding his hands. The stood up and he ripped the gag at his mouth while one of the guards gave him some water. She took the waterskin and cleaned Longclaw. When she moved forward she looked as if she was expecting him to say something. He didn’t. 

“Your Grace” she said why giving him his sword, she held it carefully with her eyes on it as if it were the most precious thing in the whole world, caressing the pomel.  
“I’m not, not anymore.”  
“My Lord, then” he took the sward and sheathed it.  
“Not that either.”  
“Really?!” she smiled, had he seen that smile before “You’re a lady’s son, kings’ brother, a prince’s son, raised in a castle with castle manners, you know your letters, you’re a stratagist” she paused, curtsied “But of course, my mistake, I apologize. Now get on your horse…my Lord, I have a favour to collect.”  
The younger of the two guards with her lead a big animal, black as night and stopped it next to her grey one. In comparison her mare looked a little more than half this beast’s size, he still got on.  
“What favour? Where do you think you’ll be taking me?!”  
“Well only a few in the North know you’ve been kidnapped, so I’m escorting you back to Winterfell as I was ordered and then the Lord of the keep will thank me and maybe, just maybe give me some reward he seems worthy of me saving the famous Jon Snow.”  
“The Lord of Winterfell?” he asked as they rode steady through the forest, he didn’t even complain or ride in the other direction… he just rode with them “Sansa married?”  
She was silent for a moment and when she looked at him there was no emotion on the face, the light that was there moments ago had disappeared as if magic and next to him stood this porcelline statue or mesmerising painting, just looking at him.  
“Well, the Lord or the Lady or even the Queen.”  
“The Lord, The Lady? Of Winterfell?”  
“The Queen’s children” this time she smiled, but did not look at him.  
Now he was smilling, picturing the little boy he last saw years ago. He was all grown up, a man, a lord, a prince.  
“Robb’s the Lord of Winterfell?!”  
“That’s wha’ she said, aint it?” the older guard said as he rode passed them to go on ahead.  
“It’s their tittle, I secretly think they enjoy it. Not being call prince and princess, but that’s just me.” Her voice was small now, a little more than a whisper in the snowy woods.  
“You serve the royal family, or are you just a good enough spy to figure if they’d want me back.” there was a pain there, not so sharp as it once was, not anymore. Did they want him back. The girl said only a few in the North knew what had happened, so maybe, maybe…  
“No, I serve the Lord, I s-uh-um-serve Robb. He sent me to find you, said if I saved you I’d be giving him and his sister the best nameday present.” She hessiteted “I serve her too, sometimes, I’m her handmaiden.”  
“Aye, so you’re what exactly? A handmaide that can not only fight but can fight alongside a lord.” The apples of her cheeks had the faintest pink colouring them and he didn’t know why he felt a bit ashamed having attacked her like this, after all she was doing her master’s bidding ,she was doing as she was told.  
“I’ll pass on your complaints to Robb.” She laughed.  
As they travelled along the road he noticed the younger guard sneaking looks at him as though he was afraid of being caught staring. He heard him whispering to the older about having some gift but she shushed them and they continued on.  
“So what is the name of my rescuer knight, then?” he hoped to keep that smile on her face and he still didn’t know why. It was so familier yet he couldn’t place how. It was as if he could see the answer and the moment he got close enough to grasp it I slipped away.  
“For now you may call me Ana, my lord.” She wasn’t looking at him. And moments later when they came out of the woods she kicked her horse into a fast run and yelled back. “Race you all back!” the guards looked at him as he shook his head and went after her, they followed.


	2. Robb's plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back.  
> The whole of the next chapter is not mapped out, so it may take a bit longer to write.  
> So I hope this one does for now.  
> I hope you enjoy...

Castle Black wasn’t as cold as it usually was. There was snow, there was frost, there was the ice of the wall and there was the Queen’s retinue at the gate. It was small. A handful of guards and a weelhouse. He was already waiting for them in the yard. And maybe it was just as cold as it had always been it’s was just that she was here, that they were here. When the whole party passed the gate and stopped he dropped to the ground, bending one knee. Out of the weelhouse she came. As radiant as ever, her hair in a delicate bun and her eyes shining in the cold winter sun as she helped a little girl out after her. Sansa turned to him as a boy jumped out of the wagon. Their eyes met and her small smile touched his heart, as if a fire was lit up in his chest and it sent a warm wave all over his body. The three of them walked to him.

“Stand, you should not kneel to anyone, Jon” and the moment he did she embraced him burying her nose in the crook of his neck. Pulling back she never took her eyes off his.

“This is Robb” the boy next to her bowed his head and looked up at him as if he was the most interesting thing in the boy’s life. “And this shy wolf is Lyanna.”

Blue eyes peeked behind Sansa’s skirts, she smiled up at him and took a cautious step forward examining him. When her curious gaze fell on the white wolf next to him her face broke in a grin, lips mouthing Ghost’s name. Jon couldn’t believe how big they were. Robb looked eager to be there, but his attention was glued to Jon himself and Lyanna, she was so gentle, so like her mother was.

“I brought them to meet you. It’s all they could talk about.” She took a deep breath, was she nervous, why would she be. This was the single most amazing moment of his life “it’s their sixth nameday in a fortnight.”

“Let me take you up on the wall than, Your Graces” he smiled.

“Does he like treats, your wolf?” a small voice asked and Jon laughed for what felt like the first time in a long time, before answering.

That was the first and last time he met the Lord and Lady of Winterfell, that was the last time he saw Sansa. Jon hated thinking about it, about all he had missed. So now making camp a few hours away from the castle he had grown up in, where they were, he couldn’t get rid of this picture in his mind. Them, all of them together.

“What are they like? Robb and Lyanna?” his voice was small and raw from disuse. He looked at the girl as he waited for her answer.

“Princely, noble, royal” she said fast as she unrolled her sleeping fur. Ana looked at him rolling her eyes she sighed “Fine, fine. Robb’s wild at times, he’s a good fighter, his mind is sharp but she’s better with a bow than he is. He’s kind when he wants to be. He’ll be a good King one day.” She was looking at the fire, mesmerized by it. Drowned in it. “She enjoys sewing and music, riding, she loves to ride.”

“Are they happy, is Sa-is Sansa happy?” it broke his heart, every time he thought of her, of them. He wanted to be with them, for all of them to be together. That could never happen. He would be tainting them, an oathbreaker, a kinslayer, a Targaryen.

“As happy as she can be without you. She hasn’t married.” he turned his head so fast towards her that his neck cracked. “You asked me, earlier. You asked if she married. She didn’t. She’s…a wonderful mother, you know.” she finally looked his way “There’s this tapestry in the great hall. It’s of you fighting the Night King. The lady Arya is there too, but it’s always you people see first.” Ana finally looked at him. “There’s another one in the Queen’s private rooms. It’s of the two of you reuniting at the Wall.”

They were silent for a long time. By the time they had layed to get some sleep he was drowned in thoughts of the royal family and he almost didn’t hear her mumbling.

“He looks like you when he broods.”

The girl tuned away from the fire, he swore he heard something else, something he only caught the end of “… and they hate her for it.”

After that sleep claimed him. .

* * *

“Where’s your sister? She should be here, discussing the final preparations for tomorrow.”

Sansa was having supper with her son in privet. She couldn’t actually eat, she was still worried over Jon. She hoped that when the soldiers leave at first light all will be well. Her generals and Robb had made a plan, a sound plan. It will work, it had to work.

“Embroidering.” he took another bite “Oh, don’t look at me like that, you know how she is with her dresses… or when she wants something at all come to think of it.” He took another enormous bite of food, stuffing his mouth.

“Your sister is not some emptyheaded girl Robb.”

“I never said she was. You seem to forget, Mother, that it is me she outshines with the maester.” Robb smiled at her and took her hand, squeezing it slightly “All will be well, by this time tomorrow we will be celebrating, he will be safe and on his way here and Lyanna will be dancing with some lord or other stupid enough to fall in love with her.”

Sansa took a breath and kissed her son’s cheek, when there was a knock at the door. Robb answered before she could even open her mouth. Maester Wolken came in and whispered something in the prince’s ear then left hastily.

“What was all that about, sweetling?”

“A surprise for tomorrow.” He answered while taking a drink from his goblet. “Worry not, Your Grace.” He smiled and kissed her forehead standing up. “I think I’ll go see if cook could spear some fruitcakes for the heir to the North and if not maybe I’ll just steal one anyway. Goodnight lady Mother.”

And he walked out the chamber leaving her alone with her thoughts. 

* * *

At first light they saddled their steeds, but they were one man short. The older guard was noticeably missing from their party. When asked about it all Ana said was that he was sent ahead. Riding back after years of being away felt as if a part of him he had locked away was finally free. All the memories, both happy and not, came back like a storm of emotions he could not name.

“Where’s your ghost?” Anna snapped him out of his thoughts. Confusion clear on his face she clarified “You’re supposed to have this white direwolf with you. All the Starks have one. He’s legendary. Where is he?”

“I’m not a Stark” and made his horse walk a little faster. That was not the answer she wanted, for she alined herself with him.

“No, you’re not, but you still have one. I was so looking forward to seeing him. So where is he? He’s not going to attack me out of nowhere is he?” when she was met only with silence her smile died and she looked around worried. “Is he?!”

“No. He found himself a friend and has been away to visit her a few times. So when those men attacked he wasn’t there. But he’ll be back, he always comes back”

“Like yourself.” But this time her gaze moved away from him and to the castle.

The young guard looked very uncomfortable to be escorting them. His eyes never met Jon’s and last night he looked very nervous around the fire. At first Jon thought it was because of King’s Landing, but the boy couldn’t have been there. It must be something else that was bothering him. Was it his Targaryen heritage, the fire within him… It did not matter soon the boy would be free of guarding him and he would not need to worry.

“Does he like treats, your wolf?” hearing the question made him laugh. 

* * *

It hadn’t change much. Winterfell. Well it had, but it looked so much like the one in his childhood memories. With people hurrying left and right, servants running around mumbling about not having enough time. It was like the beginning of one of his dreams.

“We have to hurry. The preparations for the feast have already begun.” Ana hopped off her horse and waited for him to do the same. “You’ll have to get yourself ready fast.”

“Myself?! I’m not attending a feast Ana.” Was there enough time to turn around and leave.

The servants had already seen him and bowed their heads, they were already whispering among each other.

“But you have to! Even lord Lannister is here for it, but no one is particularly happy about that , I asure you.” She was looking around and caught a maid by her elbow, told her to prepare a bath for him in his chamber. When she looked back up at him, she was confused. “Why are you still up there, my lord? Let’s go. You don’t want to be late for the princes’ nameday celebration, do you?”

Jon was halfway down already and he could feel his foot slipping, falling. He caught himself in time and straitened.

“It’s today?! You said nothing of it.”

What was he thinking being here, coming back. He had to go, leave before they saw him, before she was him. Apparently he had been spotted, for the maester was walking their way. The old man bowed low and greeted him.

“Your Grace.” Wolken smiled at them. “There are baths waiting for you in your chambers and I’ll notify the Queen of your arrival. She has been in a meeting with lord Tyrion a long time and will be happy to hear of your return.” As he ushered Jon back to his old rooms he saw Ana being lead away by a tall boy with a gold sward on his hip. 

* * *

“…because I _love_ you!” she screamed.

“You love me?! Is this what love is to you?! Is this what you do to someone you love?!” his heart was breaking.

“Is this what you think of me?” he could hear the hurt in her voice.

Jon woke up in the chair in front of the fire, where he sat after he had taken a bath. His rooms had been as he left them, not a thing out of place. A steward came and helped with his bath, beard and clothes. Jon thought of his dream. The last too days he was lost in memories. He paced back and forth. He couldn’t stay there anymore, so he took Longclaw and leftthe chamber. He wandered down the hall contemplating if he should go to her, if he should head to the Great Hall, if he should fi-shouting.

He hears raised voices and heads their way. Inside a chamber almost the size of his with the doors cracked open stand Ana and that young man that he saw her with, both dressed in grey, blue and black. His reddish hair glowing in the light of the fire in their background. Jon shouldn’t listen, he should walk on or he could announce himself, but something caught his attention. That golden pommel, it looked so familier, it had little sapphires on top and around it. The grip was golden, and down at the guard there was a big tear shaped ruby above a wolf’s head. The chape at the end of the scabbard had a small rose on it. It looked like-

“She knows? How does she know exactly?” Ana looked worried.

“Did you think she wouldn’t notice when the party didn’t leave at first light, or maybe it was the fact that Athean arrived back to say you had succeeded as I was having supper with her last night.” The man spread his arms. “I told her it was my idea. She was furious, of course. Accused me of breaking my word.”

“You told her you had already sent someone.” she was met with silence “You didn’t tell her you had me go, did you? Did you, Robb?” he looked at her through the hair falling in his eyes.

“I’m sorry she-“

“Is this because I went when you couldn’t?! Is this because I got to see him before you did, were you so mad at me for it you could not even-“

“STOP! Is this what you think of me?” she straightenеd up and looked at him.

“Well then, here’s something else I did before you – I used father’s sward.”

She turned around and walked out the door behind her leaving Robb gapping after her, frozen in his place.

“Lya! Lyanna come back! Lyanna!” and he went after her.

-Widow’s wail. It looked like widow’s wail.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so this chapter happened all on it's own mainly because it was a big part of the next chapter, but didn't quite fit in....so i had to redo it and post it as a separate chapter.  
> anyway sorry for the delay, but i just can't write, let alone a love scene ( which this has) and i rewrote it seven times.  
> hope this m  
> answers your questions on how the twins came to be in my timeline.  
> PS this happens right after Tyrion leave Jon in his tower cell.   
> enjoy

Tap, tap, tap. The heels of her shoes sound through the empty corridors. There are usually servants running around, but the feast is to start soon and they are occupied elsewhere. She has felt this way before. The corridor was similarly empty, her shoes the same eho, her stomach was in knots. Tyrion has taken too much of her time and when the maester came in and told her they were back, that that were safe she left the Lannister. She has to find him. She has to see him.

* * *

Tap, tap, tap. She hates this city. She hated it then, she hates it now. It is different now, there’s the stench of burning all around. Burning houses, burning clothes, burning people. Ash everywhere, stone-broken, melted- everywhere. The once great city, the capital is reduced to this – a pile of dust and ash. There is no lion’s roar, there is no stag fury to be feared, not even a rose can be found growing strong, there is only this…ash and blood in the winter sun.

She hates this city, hated it then, hates it now. She had made a vow never to set foot here again. The memories flood back with every step she takes down the narrow corridor. There is just enough space cleaned for her to step through the rubble and dust. Another broken vow, what would her father say?! Nothing – he died here. What would her brother say?! Nothing – he broke his for love.

A laugh escapes her as she walks on to the steps. Funny how history repeats itself. Funny how she is cursed to relive her own mistakes again and again. To break her word again and again. For love, for family. Family, duty and then if there is any left – honor.

Now up, one, two, three steps, up to the sky, up to the tower.

Inside there is nothing. Just some hay for him to lay. And there he is. Sat in the corner, head down, hair grown long, beard as well. Jon. _My Jon_.

The guards close the door after her, but she doesn’t move from it and he doesn’t look up. After months her heart beats again. Her lungs feel as if they take their first breath. _He’s alive. He’s here._

“What more could you possibly want Tyrion?” his voice is ruff from disuse, but when he looks up and their eyes meet.

There’s shock there, but she can’t tell if he’s trying to not hug her or not kill her. His hand fists around nothing and she can see his adam’s apple move.

“Sansa?” He steps closer to her, hands bunching into fists at his sides, uncertain.

He’s hesitant, and he is suddenly so brittle in her eyes, so worn and old, and _Gods what has this world done to them? What have they done to themselves?_

She fights every urge to throw herself into his arms. She is in such a shock seeing him again that she is not sure what she has said, but the frown on his face shows whatever it was he did not appreciate it.

“Can’t you see, all I did I did for you, for Arya, for Bran, for the North, for you, Sansa.”

“As any king would. For his home, for his family”

“And what a king I was. Tell me, Sansa, what kind of man kills a woman of his own blood? What kind of man kills a woman to whom he has sworn alliance? What kind of man kills a woman whose bed he's shared? What kind of man kills a woman who loves him? What King?” his hand fly out, away from his body.

“A conqueror. The right to rule is not given when there are those who would harm us – it is taken. It is taken by blood and by force. And I wish it were not, but it is and you did. You DID it to protect us, all of us, not just the North. That is the King you are.”

“I am no King” Jon’s head falls.

“You are the born king, you are the chosen king and you are my king.”

“Then why break your word? Why cause her to hate you more? Why put me in this position, where I could not protect you in any other way?” he is angry now, she can tell. His voice is hard as is his look when his eyes lock hers.

“Because I love you!” she screamed.

“You love me?! Is this what love is to you?! Is this what you do to someone you love?!” his heart was breaking.

“Is this what you think of me?” could he hear the hurt in her voice.

“Am I so hard to love?” after swallowing she continued

“At first I thought the Gods were punishing me more. Giving me love for my own brother. Turning me in what I hated most in this world, in what I was already accused of being. And then, then you gave me hope. You gave me hope that I was not wrong or broken, that I was not cursed, that I had not lost myself enough to become her. Yet your Targaryen queen was there and I couldn’t have the one thing that would make me truly happy.” tears were streaming down her cheeks, her voice was breaking and still she felt as if drowning in his grey eyes

“Why, why can’t we be happy after all that we’ve live through?!”

A thought flashed in her mind and she couldn’t breathe. Her whole body went rigid and she shivered.

“Did you love her? Is that it?! You can not bring yourself to break my heart and tell me that you did.”

She took his hands in hers, moving for the first time after stepping in the room.

“What of your heart, Jon, tell me. Am I the reason it’s broken, am I the reason you killed her?”

Sansa stares him down, mouth a harsh frown readying herself for the hurt. _He must think of her as his sister. What had she done?!_

Suddenly his fingers wrap around her waist in an intimacy too pointed to be anything brotherly. They curl into the fabric of her dress, holding her flush against him. He kisses her with the greed of wolves, as if she were water and he had wandered the desert for days and her groan fills his mouth – he's drinking her in. And she’s kissing him back.

“I love you” he breathes just above her own mouth, walking her back until her back hit the wall and kisses her again.

It sets her soul ablaze. Sansa arches against him, one hand dug into his hair, the other fisting at the fabric on his shoulder. She breathes deep, whispers his name against his lips.

A strangled gasp escapes her throat, her hands fisting in his tunic, his chest heaving against hers as he starts to kiss her neck.

"Jon," she says again, this time like a plea, this time with the soft exhale.

She rocks against him unconsciously. Jon presses his tongue to the seam of her lips and his knee pressed between her thighs.

Jon's breath stills in his chest, his hands curling tight to her hips, fisting in the material of her dress. Her hands moving to the laces at his groin.

Sansa's eyes shift between his licking her lips in her anticipation. "Jon."

And then he's rucking up her skirts, his hand going to the back of her knee, tugging it up over his hip. Her hips pushing up to meet him as he enters her. Words come out a growl. They come out a desperation.

He blinks up at her, frozen. A whimper leaves her when he pulls from her, locks eyes with her. He starts rocking into her slowly as he touches her forehead with his own whispering breathlessly

“I love you” between kisses.

Sansa squeezes her eyes shut tightly, arching against Jon, nails digging into his back as he leaves her mouth for her throat, tongue hot and wet along her pulse. Beneath her palms he is warm. He is constant. He is hers and she is his.

Sansa sucks in a sharp breath and turns to him, her legs climbing higher, a silent hiss passing through her clenched teeth. His head dropping to her shoulder as he shudders against her, a deep-seated groan leaving him.

Jon's hand dips down along her jaw and then her neck, slowly, almost reluctantly, and she stops breathing altogether.

“I love you” as he lets her feet on the ground. “I forgot myself, I wasn’t gentle. Forgive me.”

“No, Jon, no” and her hands went to his face “I wanted it. I wanted you.”

“You must go now Sansa, I have to get ready to be taken to the Wall” And he turned away from her. _Did her leaving him like this hurt him as much as it did her._

“I must go and you must be strong and live a happy life, my l-Sansa find a another to love and forget me.”

She turned him around and kissed him.

“How can I, for I shall never love as I’ve loves and love you, Jon?!”

“Yo-you must know, that such a love as this is impossible” he shut his eyes tight and rested his forehead on her temple.

“Don’t. Stop. You know that the moment you set foot in the North you will be pardoned. That you will be free to be home with me. We will both be free to be happy together.”

“You and I both know that is not what would happen. They will not exept my blood, they would hate me for it. For what happened here. For bending the knee. For being an oathbreaker, a kinslayer.”his hands tightened around her “You won’t be safe with me.”

“I never feel safe unless you are near, Jon”and she looked him in the eyes.

“Know you are my heart.”

* * *

She had to find him.


End file.
